


Come A Little Closer

by Nununununu



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Feelings, Getting to Know Each Other, Getting to Know You(rself), Intimacy, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: “Here,” K-2SO tells the droid he helped liberate, “This is Cassian. He is small and organic and regrettably breakable, but he is also predominantly tolerable.”“Predominantly tolerable? High praise,” Cassian actually looks very briefly – startled? Amused? Mildly embarrassed? It’s another one of those inexplicable unfamiliar non-expressions swiftly smoothed out. K-2SO had thought he possessed enough data on the minimal movements the man’s face makes by now for satisfactory analysis.Apparently not.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/K-2SO
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs 2020





	Come A Little Closer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bright_Elen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Elen/gifts).



> Three times K-2SO doesn't quite get it, one time he does and some friends he makes along the way.
> 
> (Originally posted 13/12; updated for author reveals)

K-2SO doesn’t particularly make anything of it when Cassian stands twelve percent closer than is his usual norm. He simply marks it as an anomaly and continues what he is saying.

Two days later, after that moderately unpleasant mission is completed, this percentage grows. Not an anomaly after all maybe, but something new.

He’s uncertain yet whether the way the increased proximity causes his circuits to feel as if they tighten indicates interest or discomfort. K-2SO has no soft, breakable organic skin to ‘prickle’ or any such a thing. Still, he can’t help but react to it this time.

“I believe that the term for this might be ‘hovering’,” K-2SO shoos him away. Cassian prevents himself from blinking, an expression almost crossing his face before he shuts it down. Something hollow, perhaps, about it.

No. K-2SO knows what Cassian looks like when organics might use the term ‘hollow’. He considers ‘mulish’ instead or even ‘bereft’, but sets these too aside.

Cassian has looked like these things previously as well. This repressed expression is something else.

“You’re warm,” Cassian mutters reluctantly even as he steps away, as if perhaps for once in their acquaintance feeling that an explanation is not only due but deciding to actually give it.

“You have additional clothes in your pack,” K-2SO points out, although this isn’t perhaps the response he intends to make. But it is the first one to present itself and, besides, it is true. “They’re even clean, unlike what you’re wearing now.”

As if he hasn’t noticed, Cassian glances down at his mission-stained uniform.

“Ah,” He disappears into the refresher and doesn’t emerge for an additional three minutes to his usual ten.

It’s reasonably baffling.

*

“Here,” K-2SO tells the droid he helped liberate, “This is Cassian. He is small and organic and regrettably breakable, but he is also predominantly tolerable.”

“Predominantly tolerable? High praise,” Cassian actually looks very briefly – startled? Amused? Mildly embarrassed? It’s another one of those inexplicable unfamiliar non-expressions swiftly smoothed out. K-2SO had thought he possessed enough data on the minimal movements the man’s face makes by now for satisfactory analysis.

Apparently not.

Anyway, “This is Shirley,” he introduces the other KX droid, “In return for her assistance on my mission, I agreed we would give her a lift off this planet.”

“Shirley,” Cassian doesn’t quite make this a question, although there’s something about it in his gaze. He gestures slightly to indicate that both KX droids should proceed him up the ramp into the ship nonetheless.

“Shirley,” Shirley agrees. She pats him on the shoulder as she passes by him, an unpractised attempt at a friendly gesture that’s a little too hard. K-2SO watches the way the lines around Cassian’s eyes deepen by two percent and he firms his stance marginally beneath the pats.

“I apologise,” Shirley says, “I removed my obedience protocols by taking advantage of and adapting a virus. But I still have more work to do on the rest of my programming.”

“It’s all right,” Cassian instantly responds.

“He’s had far worse,” K-2SO agrees. But he corners Cassian in the ship’s small galley once they’ve entered hyperspace and demands to see his shoulder all the same.

“It’s fine,” While Cassian largely avoids his gaze, he allows K-2SO to turn him away from the narrow counter so they’re facing one another, and to peel the collar and the first three buttons of his shirt open, tugging the material gently back to reveal the indications of future bruising.

Cassian’s hands, wrapped around his steaming cup of caf, remain carefully steady between them, the liquid motionless. K-2SO looks at this, looks at his non-expression, gaze aimed somewhere around K-2SO’s elbow, and then at the faint marks on the man’s shoulder and those hands. How they’re steady on the cup despite the fact the caf is hot enough K-2SO’s predictive programming can’t stop pointing out the fact it must be causing discomfort. He thinks about touching Cassian’s fingers very lightly, about encouraging them away from the cup.

Thinks about how, if he were to place his fingers on Cassian’s shoulder, they would match those marks.

“Are you cold?” For all his advanced analytical capabilities, he doesn’t know why he asks this or why he should want to move closer still.

“No,” Cassian takes a belated mouthful of his drink, blowing gently on the liquid first. The steam rises up to wreathe his hair and face. K-2SO shouldn’t want to touch him here either.

After Cassian swallows, he shifts very slightly in towards K-2SO and this is gratifying, even as it is also strange.

*

“First you bring Shirley back with you,” Cassian goes so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose, to K-2SO’s pride, “And now you bring back –”

“This is Kate,” K-2SO introduces his new friend. Nodding her hooded head to Cassian, she exclaims to herself in excitement and curiosity as she otherwise bypasses him in order to clamber up the ramp into the ship, already starting to run her hands over things.

“We stopped off on Tatooine for less than an hour so I could do the drop off,” Cassian continues, as if K-2SO isn’t aware of this, “How did you even manage to _meet_ a Jawa?”

“How did you even manage to meet your contact?” K-2SO counters, “Did you expect me to stay on the ship?”

“I – yes,” Cassian gives him a look. They’re standing close, even closer than they have before, and he’s not hiding his expression this time – a little vexed, yes, even a little irritated, but also amused, “Honestly? I'd at least hoped. You said you had analysis to run. You could have been spotted. You could –”

“I was spotted,” K-2SO decides it necessary to cut in, “By Kate. After I finished the analysis and got bored. By the sound of it, she’s started disassembling the steering. Would you like to keep talking or investigate?”

“What’s she even planning to do away from Tatooine, anyway?” Cassian sighs as he hastens to follow K-2SO up into the ship, but he’s also grinning just a little bit.

“Anything she can get away with, I would imagine,” K-2SO predicts.

“The General still hasn’t forgiven me for Shirley joining the Alliance,” There’s a laugh buried somewhere in Cassian’s voice; K-2SO’s systems surge at hearing it, “If Kate ends up deciding to try to do the same, I’m not backing you up on it.”

By now K-2SO’s ninety-three percent certain that the sensation of a tightening of his circuits is not due to annoyance. It’s not discomfort, either.

“You absolutely would,” He therefore responds cheerfully, and their hands brush as they both reach for the vital piece of tech Kate is busy investigating.

Cassian doesn’t deny it. Nor does he pull away.

*

“Sorry,” Cassian goes to step in closer, but stops himself, “You’re just – I’ll go and put on some more clothes.”

“Idiot,” Rolling his optics, K-2SO rests his hand gently on his friend’s shoulder and guides him in to lean against his chassis, “Stay here.”

“If you’re sure,” Biting his lip, Cassian lets his forehead lightly brush smooth durasteel. For all the mission was fairly awful, he’s smiling a little. He makes no attempt to hide either of these things.

All of K-2SO’s systems are humming, his circuits thrumming with increased power; he barely even registers the alert that informs him of the need to vent excess heat. He just adjusts his fans to increase the output closest to Cassian.

“I’m sure,” He agrees.


End file.
